


A Good Place We Find Ourselves

by ErinisMagic



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 9,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinisMagic/pseuds/ErinisMagic
Summary: A collection of Rusty/CB drabbles arranged in (roughly) chronological order.
Relationships: CB | Caboose/Rusty (Starlight Express)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was warm on Rusty’s face as he rolled across the freight yard, a pleasant contrast to the autumn chill that lingered in the air. The leaves had just begun to fall, painting the landscape with vibrant reds and oranges. He couldn’t help but admire how lovely it all looked, slowing down a bit so he could take it all in.

“Fan of the scenery, are we?”

Rusty just about jumped out of his skin at the unexpected voice. He slammed on the breaks and whipped his head around, trying to find who had spoken.

When he looked over his shoulder, CB was there with bright eyes and a mischievous grin. _Of course it’s CB_ , Rusty thought, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

CB raised an eyebrow at him, a giggle building up in his throat at Rusty’s alarm.

“You scared me,” Rusty said defensively, not at all appreciating being laughed at.

“Did I?” CB’s voice was all innocence, but Rusty knew he was faking.

He narrowed his eyes at the caboose, trying to think of a way to tell him off, when something at the edge of his vision caught his eye. He glanced down and, yep, CB was hanging onto his couplers. How on earth had he missed that? “How long have I been pulling you?”

CB shrugged. “A while.”

“And you didn’t think to ask me before just hitching on?”

CB shrugged again and Rusty sighed. How long had he known CB? He should have been used to the caboose’s particular brand of nuisance by now. He shook his head and fixed CB with the most authoritative look he could muster. “Well, ask next time.”

“Sure thing!” CB chirruped, but Rusty could tell he didn’t mean it.

Rusty held the look for a moment more, but he knew it wasn’t doing much. He turned his head back to the track and started rolling again. He briefly considered asking CB where he was headed so he could drop him off, but firmly reminded himself that CB wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. If he didn’t want to go where Rusty was headed, then he shouldn’t have hitched on without permission.

Behind him, CB threw his head back with a genuine smile, pulling none of his weight, just enjoying the ride.


	2. Chapter 2 - Kettle

Belle had the kettle on. She almost always had it on, nowadays.

It was just a thing she did: someone care to her with a problem, and she’d sit them down, make some tea, and they’d talk. It hadn’t happened frequently before, but ever since the championship, it seemed like everyone’s lives were off-balance. Someone was knocking on her door just about every day, looking lost or confused or frustrated. She didn’t even bother putting the kettle away anymore, knowing she’d just have to pull it out again before long.

Sure enough, just after noon, another visitor arrived. The knocking sounded loud and determined, and she wondered who it could be. She had Greaseball over yesterday, and she couldn’t imagine he’d be back again so soon. Rusty and Dustin were both more timid with their knocking, and Dinah was over so often she didn’t even bother knocking anymore.

Of all the trains in the yard who could have been at her door, CB was among the ones she had expected the least. Belle blinked in surprise, but otherwise tried to keep her shock off her face. “Hello, CB,” she greeted pleasantly, opening the door wider so he could come in.

CB didn’t say anything as he rolled past her, looking contemplative.

He’d only ever come to Belle’s a handful of times, but even still, he was familiar with the routine. He made his way into the kitchen—Belle following not far behind—and sat down at the table, immediately resting his chin on his hand.

Belle watched him for a moment. The previous times he had come, he never said a word about what was bothering him. She had no reason to believe this time would be any different, but still she asked, “What’s on your mind?” just in case she could help.

CB sighed. When he started speaking, it seemed directed more at himself than anything. “Why _him?_ ”

Belle raised a brow, but CB wasn’t even looking at her. Over on the stovetop, the kettle let out a shrill whistle. She rolled over to pull it off the heat, grabbing a pair of mugs and two tea bags. 

“I mean, he’s sweet,” CB continued as Belle made the tea. “ _Sweet._ When have I ever liked sweet?”

Belle hummed as she set one of the mugs down in front of CB. She had an idea of where this was going, but didn’t dare interrupt.

CB wrapped his hands around the mug, not drinking but appreciating the warmth nonetheless. “And, I mean, have you _seen_ him? Does he not care about how he looks at all? He’s a mess! Electra was right: he’s got no style.”

Belle took a sip of her tea. She had her own opinions on the situation, but CB has never wanted advice before, so she kept them to herself. She drank her tea in silence, letting CB keep up his one-sided argument as long as he needed.

“There’s got to be something wrong with me,” he concluded as his tea grew cold in his hands. “Right? This just isn’t me.”

There was a pause in which he seemed to be waiting for an answer, and Belle took her chances. “I don’t know,” she said, forcing herself to sound casual. “I think it could be good for you.”

CB looked up at her for the first time since he arrived. “Yeah? And do you think… do you think he…”

“He might,” she told him. A small spark of something like hope lit up in CB’s eyes at her words. “You won’t know until you try.”

CB nodded, looking back down into his tea thoughtfully. Belle let him think it over for a moment as she finished her own mug. 

Without another word, CB pushed himself up and out of the room with the same determination he came with. Belle cleaned up his abandoned mug from the table, smiling at her kettle as she passed by. She was sure she’d see Rusty in here in a few days time, and she’d need her trusty kettle again for it.


	3. Chapter 3 - Moonlight

Rusty couldn’t sleep.

He sat up with a sigh. It was the middle of the night, and the yard was still. He would have loved to visit Belle, to have a cup of tea and talk about the thoughts racing through his mind, but he wasn’t heartless enough to wake her up in the middle of the night just for that.

Still, he wished there was someone—anyone—awake right now that he could talk to. He needed advice, or at the very least someone to listen to him as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

It still hadn’t been that long since he and Pearl had broken up. They had tried to make it work, but deep down they both knew that it wasn’t right. The break up was mutual, and they had parted as friends, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should be more upset over it than he was.

People had always made it seem like, after a break up, his every waking thought would be consumed by his lost partner. And after all the time he spent chasing after Pearl, he had expected to be gutted by the split. But he just… wasn’t.

Rusty pushed himself out of bed, rolling over to the window. He stared out at the yard. It looked so peaceful, bathed in the moonlight. At least, it did until he caught sight of a shadowy silhouette moving down below.

Rusty had been relatively certain that he was the only one awake at this hour of the night, but there was definitely another train out there. He squinted out the window, trying to figure out who it could be. After watching them for a few moments, the slight and boxy frame finally clicked with Rusty; it had to be CB.

 _Of course it’s CB,_ Rusty thought with a sigh, leaning his forehead against the glass. As much as he hadn’t been thinking about Pearl recently, Rusty _had_ been thinking about CB. Try as he might, he just couldn’t get him off his mind.

CB had been acting odd, recently. Rusty tried to convince himself that that was the reason why he’d been thinking about him so much. If the championship had taught him anything, it was that he needed to keep an eye on the caboose. He’d always known CB to be… excitable, but now he'd also proven himself to be dangerous. Now more than ever, Rusty needed to be able to guess what he was going to do next. But he couldn’t.

CB’s moods were swinging so wildly these days. Rusty had seen him range from quiet and thoughtful to completely enraged to happy and giggly all in a single afternoon. There were some days where he was practically attached to Rusty at the hip, and others where he avoided him like the plague.

Looking down at him now, CB seemed calm. He seemed comfortable, out on his own in the dark, and Rusty wondered if this was something he did often. It didn’t look like he had a particular destination in mind, more like he was just wandering, enjoying the night.

It was nice seeing CB in a good mood, Rusty thought, the peace of the night starting to soothe his overactive mind. The moonlight danced around CB as he rolled down the path, and it gave him an almost ethereal glow. Rusty’s breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to be out there with him, rolling side by side in comfortable silence. He could tell CB everything that had been bothering him, and CB… he probably wouldn’t offer any advice, but he might rest a hand on Rusty’s shoulder, letting him know that he was there for him. If Rusty was upset enough, he might even offer him a hug, or…

Rusty shook his head, stopping that train of thought there. It was a bad idea, he told himself, no matter how nice it seemed in his head.

Below him, CB rolled out of view. If Rusty opened the window and leaned out, he might still be able to see him. But that would be crazy, Rusty told himself firmly, turning back to his bed. He was being irrational; he just needed to get some sleep.


	4. Chapter 4 - Midnight

“Greaseball. Greaseball!”

Greaseball woke up with a snort, picking his head up off the pillow. He looked around, trying to find who had woken him, but the room was dark and everyone was peaceful. Even Krupp, the lightest sleeper of them all, was still out, curled peacefully around Purse. That was enough evidence for him to write it off as something he’d imagined—after all, if Krupp wasn’t disturbed, the chances of a sound actually being made were slim.

"Seriously, Greaseball. I need to talk to you.”

Greaseball’s head snapped over to the window. That was where the voice was coming from, though he couldn’t think of a reason why. He stared over at the window, squinting at the shadowy figure backlit against the bright light of the full moon. For a moment, his sleepy confusion was too strong for him to comprehend what was happening. Then he had the horrifying realization that someone was at their second-story window. He was already in the process of reaching over to shake Krupp awake so he could do his job and get rid of the intruder when the voice and the silhouette finally added together in his head. “CB,” he groaned, dropping his head back down onto his pillow, “what are you doing?”

There was a shuffling sound as CB readjusted his grip on the windowsill. “I told you: I need to talk to you.”

“It’s the middle of the night!”

“… and?” CB genuinely sounded like he didn’t know what was bothering Greaseball about this situation.

Greaseball sighed. Of course CB wouldn’t see anything wrong with what he was doing. As far as he was concerned, breaking in through someone’s window was just how you conducted a friendly visit, and midnight made as much sense as a time to do things as noon.

“‘And’ you woke me up.” Greaseball dragged a hand down his face. “Go away. We’ll talk about… whatever this is tomorrow.”

“But I want to talk now,” CB protested. “I’m already here, and it won’t take long.”

"I’m tired, CB. I want to go back to sleep.”

“Just a few minutes, that’s all I need.” 

“No. Go home.”

CB huffed. “Why not?”

“It’s late, and we all have to be up early tomorrow, so whatever you want will just have to—”

“How did you get Electra to like you?”

For a moment, Greaseball could do nothing but stare. “What?”

“How did you get Electra to like you?” CB repeated slowly, as though it was the way he was saying it—not the question itself—that Greaseball couldn’t understand.

“He didn’t do anything,” Krupp said. Greaseball hadn’t even realized he was awake. “Electra was smitten right from the start.”

“No one asked you, Krupp,” CB spat.

Greaseball rubbed his eyes, as if that would help him make any sort of sense of what was happening. It was way too late, and he was far too tired to be dealing with this. “CB, what is this about?”

“What does it sound like? I need advice.”

“Advice for what?” Volta asked, causing Greaseball to lament his poor luck that they’d woken her up too with all of this.

“None of your business,” CB hissed at the same time Krupp answered, “Boy troubles.” Greaseball imagined that Krupp had earned himself a glare for that, but it was too dark to tell.

Volta hummed in understanding, and Greaseball knew that if he didn’t stop it now, this conversation could go on for at least an hour. “We’re not doing this now,” he said, carefully wiggling out from underneath Electra and scooting to the edge of the bed. Joule stirred unhappily at the movement, but thankfully, no one else woke up. “You two,” he said, pointing at Krupp and Volta, “go back to sleep. And you.” He stuck his finger between CB’s eyes, and CB went cross-eyed trying to look at it. “You got yourself up here, you can get yourself down.”

CB pouted up at him. “But you didn’t even answer my question.”

“Tomorrow,” he said firmly, shutting the window without another word. CB continued to pout at him through the glass, but Greaseball ignored him, drawing the curtains and crawling back into bed.

As soon as his weight sank into the mattress, Electra’s arm shot out, feeling for Greaseball next to him. “GB?” he mumbled sleepily. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Greaseball whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair out of Electra’s eyes. “Just go back to sleep.”


	5. Chapter 5 - Glimmer

Rusty was staring. He knew he was, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about the way CB looked, how at peace he seemed now that he thought no one was watching.

Rusty hadn’t meant to intrude on what he suspected was a private moment. He’d just been out exploring the forest, enjoying some personal time of his own. Discovering the lake had been exciting; spotting CB sitting at the edge of the water had been a shock.

For a moment, Rusty was worried that the he was going to do something… well, he wasn’t sure what. But the moment passed and CB did nothing but sit on the shore, watching the light scatter on the water, and Rusty relaxed.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen CB so calm. It was… nice, Rusty mused. CB was usually so full of chaotic energy, it felt good knowing that there was at least one place he could go to relax—especially someplace as peaceful (and not dangerous) as this.

There was a small smile tugging at Rusty’s lips. He knew he should leave, let CB enjoy his moment in peace, but for some reason, he was loathe to. Part of him wanted to go over to CB, to join him where he sat and feel the same peace he was experiencing. The other part of him wanted to stay where he was, so he could experience a beautiful view of his own.

A slight heat rose to his cheeks at the thought. He was coming to accept that he might have feelings for the caboose, but he still wasn’t sure what to do about it just yet. For now, he was alright with letting it be.

He wasn’t sure what alerted CB to his presence, but he turned around suddenly, looking straight at Rusty. He didn’t even have to search around for him: his eyes found Rusty right away.

Rusty was sure CB would be mad that he had interrupted, maybe even enraged, or at the very least irritated. But when their eyes met, Rusty saw a glimmer of happiness in CB’s eyes. The caboose gave him a little smile before turning back to the lake.

Rusty couldn’t keep his own smile from growing. The feeling like he should leave was fading away; instead, he felt welcome. He didn’t have anything else to do that afternoon; he was more than content to stay. After all, it would be a shame to ruin such a beautiful moment.


	6. Chapter 6 - Frost

It was a beautiful day, in Rusty’s opinion. The air was crisp, the sunlight golden, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He smiled to himself as he rolled across the freight yard, simply enjoying the perfect weather.

However, not everyone was in as good a mood as he was. Up ahead, CB was leaning against the fence, arms wrapped around himself and scowling.

Rusty slowed to a stop next to him. He wanted to cheer CB up, but the caboose’s emotions were so unpredictable, he wasn’t sure he could. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try, though honestly, he wasn’t even sure what could be bothering him. “Hey, CB,” he said, getting barely a grunt of acknowledgement in return. “What’s wrong?”

CB shot him a look. “What do you mean, _what’s wrong_? I’m freezing.”

Rusty was taken aback for a moment. He hadn’t thought it was all that cold out, but then again, he was a steamer—he tended to run warm. Now that he was paying attention, he could see his breath hanging in the air in misty clouds, and almost everything around them was covered in a delicate layer of frost. It looked lovely, he thought, but it was also a clear indication that it was pretty chilly. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”

“Hmph, yeah,” CB said, rubbing his hands along his arms, “it’s not like it’s only twenty degrees out or anything.”

“It’s not that bad, is it?”

CB raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it is. Did you not notice.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s nice.”

“You would.”

What that was supposed to mean, Rusty didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was a bad day or anything, cold or not. “It’s still sunny, though. That has to count for something, right? And it’s not windy, so at least there isn’t—oh!”

CB pushed himself up against Rusty’s chest, tucking his head underneath his chin. Rusty’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he looked down at CB as best he could. “Um…”

“Shut up,” CB mumbled, wiggling in even closer. “You’re warm.”

Rusty couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. He slowly wrapped his arms around CB and, when he didn’t stop him, hugged him close.

CB let out a contented little sigh and it melted Rusty’s heart. He had been on his way to talk to Poppa about preparing the yard for the coming winter, but he supposed that could wait


	7. Chapter 7 - Festival

Between the bright, cloudless sky, pleasantly warm temperate, and occasional gentle breeze, they really couldn’t have asked for a better day. Despite the constant noise and unmanageable crowds, Rusty was actually having a good time. He’d known that the Apple Festival was an annual event for quite some time, but he never went, preferring to have some quiet time to himself rather than having to deal with all the stress of a busy festival. This year, he’d finally managed to bring himself to attend, and the only reason he was able to do that was CB.

While Rusty typically preferred peace and quiet, he knew CB thrived in high-energy environments. The festival seemed like something that would be right up his alley, and Rusty had found out a long time ago that pushing himself out of his comfort zone was much easier if he was doing it for CB.

Before they’d come, Rusty had been worried that he wouldn’t have a good time. After all, the festival had only gotten bigger and bigger as the years passed; it would make sense if it were too much for him to enjoy. But once they arrived, he found himself instantly taken with the charm of it all: the vibrant leaves decorating all the trees, the crystal-clear lake in the center of the festival grounds, the cheery music drifting over to them from the group on the bandstand.

Right now, he and CB were strolling hand-in-hand—partially because Rusty liked holding CB’s hand, but also because he needed _some way_ to keep him from wandering off—through the vendor’s area. There were plenty of hand-made crafts and apple-themed treats, and Rusty was enjoying himself admiring them all. 

Just off to the side of them was a stall selling hand-made knit items. There were hats and gloves and even a few sweaters, but what caught Rusty’s eye was a bright red scarf half-buried on the table. It looked soft and warm, and CB was always complaining about being cold…

He slowed to a halt, turning to the side to look at CB, to point out the scarf and see if he would let Rusty buy it for him. He had expected to find the caboose checking out the vendors as well, or perhaps scanning the crowds, searching for an opportunity to make a little mischief. Instead, he was staring at Rusty, eyes soft with a little smile on his face.

“What?” Rusty asked, not sure what he had done to earn himself that look.

“Nothing,” CB said, expression never changing. “I’m just happy that you’re happy.”


	8. Chapter 8 - Endearment

“Are you ready to go, honey?”

CB scowled at him, and Rusty returned it with a shit-eating grin. It was the sort of he’d been on the receiving end of a thousand times—he’d almost come to consider it CB’s signature look—but never had the opportunity to give. Now, though, he could see why CB was so fond of it.

“Something wrong, dear?” he continued innocently.

CB folded his arms, glaring daggers at Rusty. Rusty couldn’t help but think he looked rather cute, and he leaned in close to plant a kiss on CB’s cheek. A quiet chuckle escaped him when CB laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back, wiping his cheek with a pout.

It’d only been a few days since Rusty had learned of CB’s distaste for conventional pet names, but already he loved using them to needle the caboose. He was coming to understand his boyfriend’s taste for being a nuisance. He had to admit, it was fun.

“Aw, don’t be like that, babe,” he said, wrapping both of his hands around CB’s, still on his chest.

“I really hate you sometimes,” CB told him, but there was no heat behind it.

Rusty smiled. “They’re terms of endearment, sweetheart. It means I _like_ you.”

“Shut up.” CB was trying to give him a serious glare, but the blush blooming on his cheeks was ruining the effect.

Rusty swallowed down a giggle and leaned in again, aiming for CB’s lips. This time, CB didn’t even play at stopping him.

Rusty was still smiling when he broke the kiss, feeling so full of happiness he was fit to burst. CB looked as though his bad mood had been assuaged, as well. He was still holding CB’s hand in his, and he rubbed his thumb over CB’s knuckles. “Come on, now, my love. We really do have to go.”

This time, CB voiced no objections.


	9. Chapter 9 - Cozy

CB snuggled further into the blankets with a sigh. He’d finally gotten home after a long day’s work out in the cold, and the chill had settled deep into his bones. The first thing he’d done after walking in the door was gather every blanket he could find, then promptly built himself a nest on the couch and buried himself inside. 

It was cozy, he thought, but not cozy enough. Something was missing.

“Rusty!” he called.

Rusty poked his head into the living room, smiling when he caught sight of CB swamped in blankets. “What’s up?”

CB stuck an arm out, reaching for Rusty. “I’m cold,” he said with a pout.

Rusty laughed. “How can you be cold? You’ve got, like, a million blankets!”

“I just am.” He clenched his fingers a few times, making a grasping motion as if he could grab Rusty even from this distance. “Come warm me up?”

Rusty raised a brow. “I’m good for more than just being your personal heater, you know,” he said, sounding more amused than anything.

“Please?” CB begged, turning up his puppy-dog eyes up a notch. He knew Rusty was weak for that look, and he was not above exploiting it.

Rusty held out for a few moments before he sighed. “Alright,” he relented, rolling over to the couch and trying to clear a space for himself amongst all the blankets. “Scooch over.”

CB smiles victoriously, wiggling over a few inches so Rusty could sit. He barely waited ten seconds for Rusty to get settled before launching himself at him, snuggling into his chest and tucking his head under Rusty’s chin.

Rusty chuckled, wrapping his arms around CB to hold him close. “Comfy?” he asked, and CB could hear the smile in his voice. 

CB couldn’t keep a soft smile off his own face. “Mmhmm,” he hummed, snaking his arms around Rusty to hug him back.


	10. Chapter 10 - Indulgent

“Do you think I’m too…” Rusty trailed off, searching for the right word. 

Poppa raised a brow. “Too…?” he prompted after a moment.

“I don’t know—soft?” Rusty was frowning, like this was something that was genuinely bothering him, and Poppa couldn’t help but feel a spark of anger for whoever had made the young steamer feel bad about his own kindness.

“Compassion isn’t a weakness, Rusty,” Poppa told him seriously.

Rusty’s eyes widened and Poppa could see the confusion running through them. “What? Oh, no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what’s this about?”

Rusty went quiet again, trying to think of how to phrase it. Eventually he gave up, settling with, “CB.”

Poppa wasn’t surprised with the answer, even if it didn’t quite answer his question. “What about CB?”

Rusty sighed. “Everyone expects me to, I don’t know, control him. But I’m no good at it.”

Poppa nodded. Ever since they’d discovered that Rusty was just about the only one CB would listen to, he was the yard’s go-to engine for handling the caboose. He’d seen it happen more than once: CB would be getting on someone’s nerves and they’d call Rusty in to stop him, but one look at CB’s puppy-dog eyes and Rusty always gave in. 

“I’ve tried,” Rusty continued, “but I just can’t say no to him.”

“Now I know that’s not true,” Poppa said. Rusty was great at stopping CB from hurting himself, or hurting someone else, or causing irreparable property damage. It was just the small things, the insignificant annoyances, that he had trouble with. “You always know how to say no when it counts.”

“I guess,” Rusty said, sounding unsure. “I don’t think everyone else sees it that way, though.”

“Is that really so important?”

“Maybe?” Rusty shook his head. “They want me to stop him from doing all of it: the following, the pestering, the roughhousing, the breaking and entering, but…”

“But he wouldn’t be CB if he didn’t do all that.”

Rusty nodded. He could clearly remember a time not so long ago when he’d been annoyed by the caboose’s antics. He had sympathy for the rest of the yard, but at the same time, it was hard to see CB’s shenanigans as anything but endearing. Being a minor nuisance was just his way of showing affection, and the fact that the rest of the yard couldn’t see that was downright frustrating.

“Is it really so wrong to indulge him?” Rusty asked, more to himself than Poppa. “I mean, it’s not like he’s hurting anyone. Besides, it’s not my job to tell him what to do; I’m not his mom.”

Poppa chuckled, laying a hand on Rusty’s shoulder. “Don’t pay any mind to the others; I think you’re doing just fine.” Rusty looked up at him with a smile, and he tacked on, “Might want to have a talk with him about the breaking and entering, though. It could land him in a real spot of trouble sometime soon.”

Rusty shrugged. “He’s broken into mine dozens of times,” he said casually. “It hasn’t been a problem yet.”

Quietly, Poppa was horrified, but he tried not to let it show. It was such an odd pair they made, but as long as it made them happy, he’d do his best to support them. “All the same,” he said, feeling a little strange about having to say this to Rusty of all people, “let’s just try to keep him on the right side of the law.”


	11. Chapter 11 - Sniffle

CB looked rather pathetic, curled up on the couch underneath every blanket they owned. He’d been there since that morning, when he’d declared that he was sick and didn’t feel like leaving the house. Rusty had immediately gone into mother-hen mode at that, bundling CB up and checking his temperature and rooting through the medicine cabinet for anything that could help.

“It’s just a cold, Rusty,” CB had said, his voice distorted by his congestion. He clearly thought Rusty was going overboard with his concern, but allowed himself to be coddled none the less.

Now, Rusty had a pot of chicken soup warming on the stove. It was a little after lunchtime, and although CB had been saying that he wasn’t hungry all day, Rusty was certain that he could coax him into at least a few spoonful’s.

Glancing back into the living room, he spotted CB on his phone and frowned. He’d hoped that maybe he’d be getting some extra sleep, but at least he didn’t seem to be feeling any worse. “Hey,” Rusty said softly, coming over and leaning over the back of the couch. CB looked up at him, and Rusty gently laid the back of his hand on his forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” CB said, pushing Rusty’s hand away, “just like the last ten times you asked me.”

“I can’t help it—I’m worried.”

CB rolled his eyes. “It’s _just_ a cold, Rusty.”

“I know, I know. I just hate seeing you feeling bad.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of CB’s head. CB sighed, sounding a little put out, but he was smiling softly when Rusty pulled back. “I made you some soup.”

CB made a face. “I already told you: I’m not hungry.”

“Come on, just a little.” CB did not look swayed, so Rusty tried a little harder. “Please,” he said, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes, “for me?”

CB glared at him weakly. He was stubborn as a mule on the best of days, but he always had a soft spot for Rusty. “Alright, fine,” he eventually relented.

Rusty beamed. “I’ll go get it,” he said, already on his way back into the kitchen.

He grabbed one of the smaller bowls they had—he knew better than to push his luck with how much he could get CB to eat. He filled it up, grabbed a spoon, and turned the stove off before heading back to CB.

He was already sitting up when Rusty came back in, and he held out a hand for the bowl without a word. Rusty handed it to him with a smile, coming around to sit down next to him.

CB stirred the broth a few times, contemplating it. “The things I do for you,” he said with a sigh, taking a sip.

Rusty chuckled. “It can’t be that bad.”

The look CB shot him said, _Yeah, it kind of is,_ but he took another spoonful anyway.

“Aw, come on. I worked hard on that!”

CB raised a brow. “You poured soup from a can into a pot and put it on the stove. What part of that is hard work?”

“Just because you’ve got the sniffles does not give any excuse to be mean,” Rusty said with a playful pout.

CB groaned. “Don’t call it that. I’m not two.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Rusty said, grabbing a clean tissue from the coffee table to wipe off a drop of soup that had dribbled onto CB’s chin.

Before he could even touch his skin, CB had grabbed the tissue out of Rusty’s hand. “You’re the worst,” he said with a sniff.

“Hmph. Fine way to treat the guy who stayed in all day to take care of you.”

“I told you didn’t have to,” CB said, setting the bowl down on the coffee table. There was more left in it than Rusty would have liked, and he frowned but didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” He reached an arm around CB’s shoulders, pulling him into a one-armed embrace. CB came easily, snuggling into Rusty’s chest.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

Rusty smiled, letting go of him for a moment to pull the nearest blanket up to his shoulders. “My pleasure.”

CB hummed sleepily. “You mean that?”

Rusty pulled him in close, softly kissing the top of his head. “I do.”


	12. Chapter 12 - Harvest

Rusty had discovered the grove of apple trees years ago. He’d stumbled upon it while he was out exploring the unused tracks that surrounded the yard, and since then it had been his secret. It was where he escaped to when he needed some space, a quiet haven well secluded from the usual hubbub of the freight yard. He’d never wanted to share it with anyone, until now.

He glanced over his shoulder, a smile immediately slipping out at the sight that awaited him. CB had his eyes closed and his head thrown back as Rusty pulled him, soaking in the warmth of the sun. He’d long since discovered that this was the caboose’s favorite way to ride with him, and it warmed his heart. The fact that CB trusted him enough that he didn’t feel he even had to look at the track felt almost felt like an honor.

Rusty slowed to a stop at the edge of the grove. “We’re here.” He waited a moment, expecting CB to unhitch, but he never did.

CB opened his eyes, staring at the trees in front of them in mild confusion. “Where is ‘here,’ exactly?”

“An apple grove. I think it might have been an orchard at one point,” Rusty told him. He would have thought it was obvious, but then again, he hadn’t really told him where they were going when he asked CB out for the afternoon. CB had immediately jumped on the offer and followed him out of the yard, no questions asked. 

CB was still staring at the trees, his head cocked to the side like he was considering them, and Rusty began to feel self-conscious. All of a sudden, this seemed like a bad idea, and he had the urge to turn them around and pretend this had never happened.

“And what do you _do_ in apple groves?” CB asked, turning to look at Rusty. 

“I don’t know,” he said hesitantly, “sit, think, relax. That sort of thing.”

CB hummed. He rolled forward to rest his chin on Rusty’s shoulder, eyeing the trees again like he was trying to figure them out.

It made sense that CB wouldn’t quite get it; after all, peace and quiet wasn’t exactly his style. To his credit, for as often as Rusty indulged in CB’s chaotic tendencies, CB tried very hard to figure out how to enjoy the peaceful moments Rusty liked so much with him. 

Rusty reached back, finding CB’s hand and giving it a squeeze. He tried to think of something they could do here that they’d both enjoy, which was a challenge he found himself taking on a lot these days.

Admittedly, Rusty didn’t know all that much about fruit. He knew that fall was apple season, and the ones on the trees certainly looked ripe. By his best guess, now was as good a time as any to pick them.

“You know,” he said, pointing to one of the taller trees in the grove, “I think those ones at the top might be good to pick.”

A spark lit up in CB’s eyes, already sizing up the tree Rusty was looking at. He’d heard the unspoken challenge in Rusty’s words and was off to defeat it before Rusty could even blink.

Rusty shook his head with a smile, following behind at a more sedate pace. CB was already a good six feet off the ground by the time he caught up.

He was sorely tempted to yell up to CB, to tell him to be careful, but he knew better. CB never listened to such warnings—if anything, they only made him act more reckless. A little voice in the back of his mind whispered that CB might listen if it was _him_ who was asking, but he didn’t want to risk it.

Rusty sat down at the foot of the tree, looking up through the branches to watch CB ascend. He couldn’t help but admire how gracefully he moved, completely assured in every action.

CB reached the upper branches even faster than Rusty had expected, and he was surprised to feel a little bubble of pride well up at the fact. He smiled up at the caboose, wanting to call up praise to him. However, worry about distracting him while he was precariously perched so high up stayed his tongue.

While setting CB to a mildly dangerous task had been a good solution in the moment, Rusty hadn’t given much thought to what would happen when CB reached the top. “Ow!” he exclaimed, rubbing his head where the apple had hit.

“Oops!” CB giggled. He grinned down at Rusty, not looking at all sorry about the “accidental” hit.

Rusty frowned back at him, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. This was CB, after all; he’d gotten used to this sort of thing ages ago. Besides, Rusty knew he couldn’t stay mad at him if he tried.


	13. Chapter 13 - Shiver

It was cold in their room. Almost uncomfortably so, as far as Rusty could tell. As a steamer, the cold never bothered him much, but CB had been particularly whiny all morning. He downright refused to get up—he wouldn’t even pull his head out from under the blankets—and he was even clingier than usual.

Right now, CB was wrapped around Rusty so completely, he was actually a little impressed. He would have loved to be able to hug the caboose back, but when he had latched on, he’d trapped Rusty’s arms against his sides. He’d also managed to get their legs impossibly tangled and wiggled over until he was laying almost entirely on Rusty’s chest. In short, Rusty was stuck.

At first, he hadn’t minded. It was nice to spend some time cuddling with his boyfriend, even if it was kind of hard to breathe. But that was almost an hour ago now, and if they stayed in bed any longer, they were going to be late.

It took some doing, but Rusty finally managed to wriggle an arm out of CB’s grasp. CB, still mostly asleep, let out an unhappy sound at the loss, snuggling in closer to Rusty’s chest to make up for it. Rusty couldn’t help but smile, gently stroking CB’s cheek. “C’mon, ‘Boose. We gotta get up.”

“Mmm. No,” CB whined, hiding his face against Rusty’s shoulder.

Rusty chuckled. “Yes,” he said softly, “it’s already 8:30.”

“Ugh. So?”

“So, we have to get up.” CB whined again, and Rusty ran his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair. “We have work to do today.”

“But Rusty, it’s cold!”

“It’s winter; it’s supposed to be cold.”

“Hmph. You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew how much it sucks.”

It was true, Rusty didn’t really know what it felt like to be cold. His firebox kept him plenty warm, even on the chilliest of days. All he knew was that whenever the temperature dropped, CB wouldn’t stop complaining about it. Everyone else in the yard seemed unhappy with the cold, too, so Rusty figured it must be pretty unpleasant.

He tugged lightly on CB’s chin, pulling his head up so he could look him in the eye. CB was pouting, which never failed to make Rusty feel bad for him. “I know you don’t like it,” he said softly, “but we can’t stay in bed all day.”

CB turned his puppy-dog eyes up another notch. “Why not?”

Normally, Rusty was so weak to that look, and CB knew it. Today, though, he was determined to hold his ground. “I already told you, we have work to do.”

CB seemed to catch on that his usual pity tactic wasn’t working. For a split second he looked frustrated, before his eyes lit up with a new idea. He leaned in close, dropping his voice an octave. “But think of all the fun we could have in bed,” he whispered against Rusty’s ear.

A shiver ran down Rusty’s spine as CB trailed kisses along his jaw. He knew exactly what CB was doing, and he could list off every reason in the universe why he had to resist, but it felt so good, and CB knew just what made him tick. He nipped at the skin just below Rusty’s ear, and Rusty choked back a whimper. “That’s just not fair.”

CB smiled against Rusty’s neck. He pushed himself up, hovering over Rusty and looking very pleased with himself. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Rusty had another few moments of internal debate before giving it an internal _screw it;_ work could wait for another hour. Without warning he surged up, flipping them over and pinning CB down the way he knew he loved. CB beamed back up at him, a tinge of smugness. “You’re incorrigible,” Rusty said ruefully.

“Yeah, but you love it.”

Rusty leaned in, kissing the smirk right off his face. “Yeah,” he said when they finally broke apart. “I do.”


	14. Chapter 14 - Storm

Hail pounded down on the rooftop with a vengeance, and CB scowled. It had been bad enough when it was just the rain and wind, but this new development made it impossibly worse.

Rusty was peaceful beside him, content to spend the day indoors, just reading or doing puzzles or whatever boring thing he liked to do in his free time. No matter how hard he tried, CB couldn’t understand the appeal of activities like that. So, while Rusty was having a pleasant afternoon relaxing, CB was not.

He’d been restless all morning, completely unable to sit still. He’d drifted aimlessly from room to room, searching for something satisfying to do but finding nothing. Upon Rusty’s request, he sat down next to him on the couch, but after only a minute he was bouncing his leg so hard he could tell it was starting to annoy Rusty. Another minute after that, he was back on his feet, heading down the hall to the bedroom, then back to the kitchen, then into the living room, then the kitchen again, the sound of the rain pelting down driving him mad the whole time.

After about half an hour of listless pacing, CB found himself in front of the living room window, staring at the dreary world outside. A gust of wind blew by so strong it shook the glass, and CB frowned, drumming his fingers on the windowsill. 

“You really should try to relax, CB,” Rusty said from behind him.

It took CB a moment to realize that he’d been spoken to, and then an extra few seconds to make sense of what had been said. “That’s easy for you to say,” he snipped back, scratching his nails back and forth against the wood.

“Why don’t you come over and sit with me for a minute?” Rusty asked, as if that had gone so well the first time they tried it.

“No thanks.” He pushed himself away from the window, drifting into the kitchen for a moment, then back into the living room. 

Rusty had looked up from his book, watching CB as he moved aimlessly around the room. “You really can’t sit still for five minutes?”

“Well, go sit somewhere else if I’m bothering you!”

Rusty went quiet for a moment. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

CB huffed. “Whatever,” he mumbled, already in motion again. He made his way into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a bang.

Admittedly, he felt a little bad about being so short with Rusty. Being cooped up inside always put him in a terrible mood—he was filled with restless energy and had nowhere to direct it. He felt rather like a time-bomb, set to explode at any second. He knew it wasn’t fair to Rusty to take it out on him, but as the day wore on, he was finding it harder and harder to keep control over himself.

He started pacing circles at the foot of the bed. He had to apologize. He’d been totally in the wrong, and Rusty deserved to be treated better. 

CB sighed, turning to start another lap across the room. When the rain stopped, he told himself. He’d make it up to Rusty when the rain stopped.


	15. Chapter 15 - Orchard

“Take me back,” CB demanded one morning without preamble.

Rusty looked up from his book, not particularly surprised by the interruption, but not really understanding it either. “Back where?”

“To the orchard.” Rusty’s confusion must have shown on his face, because CB continued, “You know, the one off the old abandoned tracks. You took me there once, remember?”

Rusty raised a brow. He knew the place CB was referring to: it was someplace special to him, where he could go whenever he needed to escape. He and CB had passed a pleasant afternoon there together, but he hadn’t expected CB to really like it. After all, what drew Rusty to the orchard was the sense of peace it radiated, and he knew better than anyone that peace wasn’t something that came easily to CB.

“I remember you ‘accidentally’ dropping a lot of apples on me,” Rusty said, his voice a mix of rebuke and humor.

“So? I promise I’ll be more careful this time.”

Privately, Rusty doubted that, but that was fine. He knew CB didn’t do it out of any malicious intent, and it wasn’t like it hurt too terribly.

Still, he couldn’t imagine why CB wanted to go back. “I didn’t realize you liked it that much,” Rusty said, turning back to his book. 

In true CB fashion, the second Rusty’s attention was elsewhere, the caboose wriggled his way onto Rusty’s lap. “So what if I do?”

Rusty smiled down at him. “So nothing, I guess.” He turned a page in his book, flipping through to see how much he had left in the chapter. “We can go tomorrow.”

CB pouted. “But I want to go now,” he whined.

“You can wait a day.”

“But I don’t want to wait!”

CB’s hands appeared over the top of Rusty’s book, pushing it down and away from him. Rusty tried to pull it back, but CB wouldn’t give. 

Rusty sighed, equal parts fond and exasperated. “Why do you want to go back so bad?”

“Because you like it,” CB said, wiggling in closer. “It makes you happy. And I like seeing you happy.”

Rusty softened at that. He let go of his book, instead reaching up to cup the back of CB’s head. “I’m happy just being here with you.”

CB preened at the attention, leaning into Rusty’s touch with a smile. Rusty stroked his fingers through the caboose’s hair, admiring—as he always did—how soft it was. 

“We can still go tomorrow, though, right?” CB asked after a moment of silence.

Rusty smiled, giving CB’s hair a gentle tug. “Of course.”


	16. Chapter 16 - Confession

Apprehension was tying itself in a knot in CB’s chest. A tremble had started up in his jaw, not strong enough for anyone else to notice, but definitely something he couldn’t ignore. He tried to focus on his breathing, taking deep and steady breaths, counting them out inside his head. 

It was funny. CB prided himself on the fact that he never got scared. Of anything. He faced even the most terrifying situations with a sense of excitement, but apparently all it took to reduce him to this quiet mess of anxiety was one simple sentence: “Why’s Poppa always looking at you like that?”

He knew Rusty didn’t mean anything by it. He was just curious, that was all. He didn’t know the memories he was dredging up, the secrets CB hadn’t told _anyone._

CB clenched his hands into fists, trying to ground himself with the little stabs of pain that came from the way he was digging his nails into his palms. A smile stretched across his lips, but it felt all wrong. “Like what?” he asked, as if playing dumb could get him out of this situation.

“Like… like _that_ ,” Rusty said, gesturing over to where Poppa was, indeed, staring intensely at CB. 

The look on Poppa’s face was one CB knew well. It was a look of scrutiny, a little confusion and a little frustration, though recently it had become tinged with worry as well. “Ah, that.” CB laughed nervously. “He just thinks he knows me from somewhere, that’s all.”

Rusty was scrutinizing him too, now. Unfortunately for CB, he knew all of his tells. “And does he?”

“Of course. He knows me from here!”

Rusty frowned, watching CB carefully. He worked his hand into CB’s, breaking his painfully tight grip and rubbing his thumb over the back of CB’s hand soothingly. “CB, what aren’t you telling me?”

“What do you mean? You know I don’t keep things from you,” CB lied.

Rusty shook his head. “You and I both know that’s not true. And that’s alright—you don’t have to tell me everything.” He gave CB’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “But something about this is upsetting you, and I want to help.”

“You can’t,” CB said, tightening his grip on Rusty’s hand in return.

“I could try, if you told me.” CB remained silent, so Rusty tried again. “We were talking about Poppa,” he said, gently directing the conversation back on track. “Why does he look at you like? Why is that upsetting you?”

CB looked away, dragging his toe back and forth through the dirt. “He knew me when I was younger. He just doesn’t know it, that’s what’s bothering him.”

“Why wouldn’t he know that?”

“He… I…” CB drew in a shaky breath, squeezing Rusty’s hand so tight it had to hurt. “I was… converted,” he admitted, voice barely more than a whisper. “Experimentally. A long time ago. It, uh… it’s not something I like to talk about.”

Rusty was quiet for a long time. CB hardly dared to even look at him, afraid of finding pity in his eyes, but when he finally risked a glance in the steamer’s direction, all he found was concern. 

A few more moments passed in silence. Rusty opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find his voice. When he finally spoke, his words were soft and gentle. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“If there’s anything you ever need me to do… things not to talk about or topics to avoid, or—”

“Rusty, it’s fine,” CB said, cutting off his nervous rambling. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. Some days are just worse than others, you know?”

Rusty nodded, but it seemed more like an idle motion as he thought things over than an agreement. “Will you at least tell me when it’s a bad day?”

CB hesitated. He hated being vulnerable, and opening himself up like that went against all of his instincts. Still, it was Rusty asking. Rusty, who didn’t have a mean bone in his body, who’d never been anything but kind and understanding, even after everything CB had put him through. 

“Yeah, sure,” he said eventually. After all, Rusty had helped him more than he knew in the past. Maybe trying to ask for that help wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 


	17. Chapter 17 - Sunrise

Rusty was a morning person. He liked waking up early and getting things done in the quiet hours before anyone else was awake. Those early hours felt safe to him, calm and peaceful in a way the freight yard never was any time else.

As much as Rusty was a morning person, CB was not. He was always up late into the night doing who knows what. Sometimes Rusty would find him heading to bed at the same time that he was waking up. 

Last night, CB had come to bed at what he considered a reasonable hour (personally, Rusty disagreed, but as long as CB didn’t oversleep, he wasn’t going to tell him off about it). Rusty always liked it when they could actually sleep together, even if CB did cling on so tight he actually cut off Rusty’s circulation. He was very physical with his affection, and Rusty would take every second of it that he could get.

His alarm had gone off twenty minutes ago, but he turned it off. It was a very rare occurrence for him to so much as touch the snooze button, but CB looked so content snuggled into Rusty’s chest that he couldn’t bear to disturb him. 

Through the window, he could see the sun beginning to rise. It was always his favorite time of day, and no matter how many times he saw it, he was always entranced by the way the sky lightened, how the dark gave way to the delicate pinks and oranges, how the world slowly came awake. It felt like a special moment, like a secret he was just privileged enough to be able to witness.

Rusty carefully shifted his arm out from under CB. The caboose stirred, wiggling up to tuck his head into Rusty’s neck, and Rusty smiled. He gently ran his fingers through CB’s hair. One day, he thought, he might be able to convince him to wake up early so they could watch the sunrise together. For now, though, just being able to hold him in his arms was enough.


	18. Chapter 18 - Reflection

New Year’s had never been CB’s favorite holiday. Sure, the parties were fun, but he never really saw a point to it. Poppa always said that New Year’s Eve was a good time for reflection, and up until now, CB had thought that was a load of crap. This year, though, he couldn’t help but think back.

He’d changed this past year. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but it was true. He supposed Poppa would probably call it growth, and that he wasn’t so sure about, but the truth of the matter was he _had_ changed—he could only hope it was for the better. 

He used to have secrets, and lots of them. There were many things he kept close to his chest—and if he were being honest with himself, even more that he still kept locked even tighter—memories and histories that he’d promised himself he’d never talk about. 

But he had. He’d opened himself up, spilled his secrets, made himself more vulnerable than he could ever remember allowing himself to be. Something had changed him. _Rusty_ had changed him, though he’d never admit that out loud.

In times past, the steamers good heart had been a constant source of annoyance for him. The fact that anyone could still see kindness in the world, could still have the drive to go out of their way to be nice to others, seemed not only unreal to him, but almost felt like a slap in the face. It made him want to lash out, whether to punish Rusty for being good when he couldn’t or to try to drag him down to his level, he’d never been sure. 

Now, though, the opposite was happening. For as good as Rusty was to him, it made CB want to be better. He wanted to be the sort of boyfriend Rusty deserved.

He knew he wasn’t perfect, but he was trying. He’d slipped up now and then, snapped when he shouldn’t, said things or did things that weren’t right. But he was learning to apologize, to recognize when he was in the wrong and put himself out there to make up for it. 

And through it all, Rusty was right by his side. Even on his bad days, Rusty never abandoned him. He was kind and patient and understanding, everything CB never knew he needed. 

The rest of the yard was rowdy, a few drinks in and clearly showing it. They were shouting along with the countdown, every one of them loud and excited. He and Rusty were sitting off to the side, hand-in-hand. Rusty was calm, contentedly watching the excitement of the others rather than getting involved. CB was bouncing his leg beside him. Thankfully, Rusty didn’t seem to mind. 

“... two, one, happy new year!” 

CB smiled. “Happy new year,” he said quietly, leaning over and bumping Rusty’s shoulder.

Rusty smiled back, giving CB’s hand a squeeze. “Got any resolutions?”

 _Keep trying to be better,_ CB thought. _Keep working on becoming the person you know I can be._ “I don’t know. I never really got into that sort of thing.”


End file.
